City of Lights

prose, implied threesome. Oh, did that get your attention?

 

They sat on the edge of the world, the three of them, staring out into the darkness and below them the city lights spread out, glittering, headlights steadily moving through veins—roads—in a patch work of dark.

“It looks like a sea of light.” She whispered, her voice deep, each syllable calculated.

“More like a sea of ink.” He hugged his knees closer and flinched as both he and she put their arms around him.

“It looks like both to me… like the light is floating on the darkness like oil on water. Lovely.”

“You’re such a f*g.”

He chuckled and kissed him hard after her example.

“Oh, but you love it.”

“Shut up.” But they could both hear the smile in his voice. They could both see the glimmer in his eye and traced it’s decent down the shadowy outline of his face. She took it on her fingertip.

“Why are you crying.” She asked but there was no question rolling off her tongue, no inflection. She needed no answer as she tasted it, tasted the others as they tumbled down his face. He tasted like the ocean. Soon she was drowning in him, gasping for breaths between tongues and teeth.

He heard them sink back against the silky darkness, their coats spread out on the grass under them, the three of them, on the hill just beyond the city lights. He heard the redundant murmur of cars below them, the haunting sirens, and then he heard them… their gasping, their crying, their tangling and he smiled, folding them in his arms… laughing and gasping as they pulled him down hard

He heard him join them on the coats, felt him entwine his leg around his own but couldn’t see him. Then he felt her over him, her form blotting out the satellites, enveloping the three of them in darkness, and he was blinded—utterly blinded—as she kissed his eyelids. Fireworks behind his eyes.