Summer Afternoon #1
The air ripples as heat drifts snow-like from above, coating the house, the pavement, the
two boys sprawled so lazily in the shade. One fair head is resting on a bare stomach, a
bronzed arm is draped over pale shoulders. Limbs are drawn akimbo in shade cooled grass as one
pair of shaded eyes watches the glass-blue sky and the other lays closed.
"It's too hot to move," comes the ethereal words from Touji's stomach, lips drifting
languidly across skin.
Fingers twitch and gravity pulls the arm down to coil around Kiyosumi's neck, palm
curling against the nape, "Then don't."
Prince of Tennis |