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Description
He was laying on the bed, half asleep. Wrapped in silk and the cotton of the thin sheets, waiting for his lover to come to him.  The other man was just outside the hotel room door, smoking the last cigarette of the night before he came to the arms of the elegant angel on the bed. The bed deity watched the back of the man outside with heavily lidded eyes.  He was exhausted from a long day, an exciting night.  All he wanted to do now was cuddle and fall asleep . . . but he wondered what his counterpart would want.  He would stay up if there was lovemaking expected, but he was just so. . . .  Slowly, the angel on the bed faded to the sweet, weightless darkness of sleep before dreams come.  His long, thin body curled just under the thin sheet, head resting on the bend of his silken but strong arm rather than upon a pillow.  His face was still pointed to the door, where his eyes would have been on his lover if he'd still be awake.  He was still waiting for the other, though he was lost in the mists of sleep — lost in the sandman's world . . . slowly approaching dreams where nothing mattered but for his own true love.

The other man turned from his place on the balcony, snuffing out his cig in the ashtray stand situated just outside the door. It was bolted into the wall.  He eyed it with slight mirth.  A smokeless room for two smokers.  He'd never understand why or how that had happened, but ... here he was . . . standing outside in his boxers and a jacket, freezing his balls off to calm the craving for nicotine before falling asleep . . . or having wild, gracious sex ... and having to go outside and have the true last smoke of the evening.  He cracked a rough but sexy grin and looked into the room, thinking of his lover.  The grin faded to a soft, loving smile; his eyes on his sleeping lover. He finished snuffing the cig, letting the dead body fall to the ground under foot.  He stepped over it into the room.  Pulling the door closed silently behind him, he took off his jacket and laid it across the nearby table, then he slid off his underwear, leaving those on the ground and moved to the bed.  He climbed in against his lover, laying out along side his body before he pried up the sheets and let them resettle over both his and his lover's bodies.  He lay his head on his lover's chest, listening to the other man's heart beat.  He smiled to hear it through the long silken shirt, caressing the fabric over the other's toned abdomen.  He closed his own eyes . . . then remembered the light....  He got up, annoyed at his own forgetfulness, but staying silent in this, and he moved to the lights, turned them all out.  He returned to the bed, getting back in the thin cotton sheets and realigning his body to that of his lover.  His head settled back against the warmth of that beloved chest.  He closed his eyes and slowly, slowly began to fall asleep. . .

'Hai, Totchi-ai... Sleep sounds perfect tonight, ne?'  Kyo mumbled to himself and to his sleeping lover as he slowly drifted into the darkness of peace of the sandman's realm for the night as well.  There, the lovers would join in their union . . . astral bodies joined and sweating, alive with the fire of touch.  He was in for the sweetest of dreams that night.

Description
He was laying on the bed, half asleep. Wrapped in silk and the cotton of the thin sheets, waiting for his lover to come to him.  The other man was just outside the hotel room door, smoking the last cigarette of the night before he came to the arms of the elegant angel on the bed. The bed deity watched the back of the man outside with heavily lidded eyes.  He was exhausted from a long day, an exciting night.  All he wanted to do now was cuddle and fall asleep . . . but he wondered what his counterpart would want.  He would stay up if there was lovemaking expected, but he was just so. . . .  Slowly, the angel on the bed faded to the sweet, weightless darkness of sleep before dreams come.  His long, thin body curled just under the thin sheet, head resting on the bend of his silken but strong arm rather than upon a pillow.  His face was still pointed to the door, where his eyes would have been on his lover if he'd still be awake.  He was still waiting for the other, though he was lost in the mists of sleep — lost in the sandman's world . . . slowly approaching dreams where nothing mattered but for his own true love.

The other man turned from his place on the balcony, snuffing out his cig in the ashtray stand situated just outside the door. It was bolted into the wall.  He eyed it with slight mirth.  A smokeless room for two smokers.  He'd never understand why or how that had happened, but ... here he was . . . standing outside in his boxers and a jacket, freezing his balls off to calm the craving for nicotine before falling asleep . . . or having wild, gracious sex ... and having to go outside and have the true last smoke of the evening.  He cracked a rough but sexy grin and looked into the room, thinking of his lover.  The grin faded to a soft, loving smile; his eyes on his sleeping lover. He finished snuffing the cig, letting the dead body fall to the ground under foot.  He stepped over it into the room.  Pulling the door closed silently behind him, he took off his jacket and laid it across the nearby table, then he slid off his underwear, leaving those on the ground and moved to the bed.  He climbed in against his lover, laying out along side his body before he pried up the sheets and let them resettle over both his and his lover's bodies.  He lay his head on his lover's chest, listening to the other man's heart beat.  He smiled to hear it through the long silken shirt, caressing the fabric over the other's toned abdomen.  He closed his own eyes . . . then remembered the light....  He got up, annoyed at his own forgetfulness, but staying silent in this, and he moved to the lights, turned them all out.  He returned to the bed, getting back in the thin cotton sheets and realigning his body to that of his lover.  His head settled back against the warmth of that beloved chest.  He closed his eyes and slowly, slowly began to fall asleep. . .

'Hai, Totchi-ai... Sleep sounds perfect tonight, ne?'  Kyo mumbled to himself and to his sleeping lover as he slowly drifted into the darkness of peace of the sandman's realm for the night as well.  There, the lovers would join in their union . . . astral bodies joined and sweating, alive with the fire of touch.  He was in for the sweetest of dreams that night.